Raining in the Night
by Al Pacinos
Summary: A fearless hitman gets a call from his boss just in time when he was going to kill everyone while he's out. The boss is craving for pleasure and offers Jack the opportunity he can't miss!
1. Introduction, mafiastyle!

_Rain and Night, days with Napier were never bright_

_Guns and Knives, everything he done to take everyone's lives_

_Tears & Blood, fear soars their heart with reddish flood_

_His intentions, and inventions_

_Inspired the wicked_

_with his connections_

_To a gang he aided_

_Taking no suggestions_

_From those who bribed_

Rain drops, so _little_ to look at,_ big_ of a sound they make. It was raining in the middle of the night, 11:14 P.M. to be precise. A man in_** black**_ was looking through the window, his name was **Jack Napier**, always wanted to keep a low-profile in the Criminal Underworld, but men can't have enough talking about him, how challenging he is, how he's always the man with a plan, gets every 2 or so tricks up his sleeves, a spook, and a tricky bastard. He's famous and feared for his gruesome practises, never showing an emotion, never even saying a lick.

Water was dripping from the roof, it dropped on his nose, he never moved, kept looking through his window, the rain was a bit intense, dropping down heavily. He saw every drop as the bloods of everyone he killed, exterminated, tortured and ended. He turned his face slightly to face the door, he woke up, wore what he usually wears, his favorite black suit, tie, vest and fedora, grabbed a pack of cigarettes, guns and a knife. He was pretty much aware of the fact that he didn't pick up his lighter, he doesn't need a lighter to light his cigarette, because he's **Jack Napier**. He got out of his apartment, still raining, he didn't bother to pick up an umbrella, intead, he picked up a _corpse_ on the corridor, who turns out to be the owner of the apartment.

As he used the corpse as an _umbrella_ outside, his phone rang.

He picked it up, "_ ..._ "

" _Hello, Napier. Napier? Uh... Jack. Are you there?_ " A familiar voice spoke.

" _Oh! Haha, what am I doing and who am I kidding? You're as silent as the night. Jack, I need you to see me at my house._ "

_-Beep- -Beep- -Beep-_

It was good ol'** Valestra**. Jack's _boss_, orders him around to do stuff like killing, robbing...etc. Sal Valestra was the most feared and powerful mob-boss in Gotham. No one even dares to mess around with him, or his gang. He's as tough as a tiger, as smart as a book and as good-looking as yourself, well, that's if you looked as dashingly cute.

Jack was much like his errand boy, doing filthy jobs for him, Jack loved what he usually does, but it gets boring how _repetitive_ the tasks get: Raid a Mob-Family, kill all who are related to the target, drives back to his boss, and sends him the news.

Honestly, everything was_ too easy_ for **Jack Napier**, he kicks a guys one-side of his butt on that hill, and the other down the bridge. **Jack Napier** was the very actual meaning of _badass_. He _ate_ **Marvel** superheroes for _breakfast_, roundhouse-kicked everyone to the **face**, tipped his hat to a lvl. 5 Magikarp to **evolve** it into a_ lvl. 100 Gyarados_, played **Mario Kart** _wirelessly online_ with other of his friends by using his trusty ol' **Gameboy Color** and his _tweets_ contain _over 300 characters_. **Marvel **_owns_ Wolverine, and_** Jack Napier** owns **DC**_.

**Jack Napier** got into his car and drove his way to his destination, _Valestra gang-hideout_. Just before opening the door, he heared a loud cheer, he looked around to see where it came from just to be stumbled upon by his_ lovable few men of his gang_, they're **5** or so, tough, badass, cool and overall, _annoying_. They got towards the car, but they kept fighting over who will open the door first for **Jack Napier**.

_Who will open the door for him? And when? And what does Sal want from Jack?_

_Stay tuned as all those questions will be answered in the next chapter :" **Died trying** " !_


	2. Died Trying

Jack stared silently at his crew, you can imagine _ANYTHING_ what they might be doing right now. _Growling at each other_, _giving the finger_,_ pillow fighting_, yes, _pillow fighting_. They were acting ridiculous, like immature adults spinning around the hallway. He sighed in displeasure, he immediately opened the door and got out of his car. The gang couldn't believe what Jack had _done_. They've considered that as a_** bold step**_ for their boss to open the door all by **HIMSELF**. Suddenly, they're as blue as the sky, they faced the ground, humiliated, they've not achieved _anything_ this past week.

**Jack Napier** gave them a _round-house kick_ to the **FACE**.

It didn't even take a _second_ for Jack to beat them all to the ground, it was ALL done fast, faster than a _heartbeat_. What can I say? He's **Jack Napier**.

He took out his pack of cigarettes and placed one in his mouth, still, he's _aware_ that he didn't bring a _lighter_ with him. He just _stared_ at the cigarette and it **Lit the cigarette **by _itself_... In _**fear**_.

Jack picked up one of the _fallen_ gang he _round-house kicked_ and used as a _subordinate_ for an _umbrella_. It was still raining _heavily_, you just can't _imagine_ how _long_ it took for these guys to fight _over_ a door. Suddenly, lightning _struck _**RIGHT** infront of Napier.

**Jack _blinked_**.

He proceeded to enter the _**Criminal Underworld**_, every step he took made a majority of other mobsters hearts strike in **fear**. They widened their eyes and couldn't stop yapping about the spook. Jack never bothered to look at those losers,

" _Lookit 'im. All smug an' mighty like dat._ "

" _Psshhh. He can hear ya! Keep it low,yo._ "

" _Don't...Lookit 'im._ "

" _Why...?_ "

A knife slashed an eye of a mobster. One could not imagine how _disgusting_ it turned out, the guy beside the victim could not move, he was _paralysed_, _scared_, his face was almost _broken_ with _sweat_. Jack entered Valestra's hideout/house/watchamacallit.

The living room was as beautiful as usual, carpet's golden, curtains had flashy designs and patterns on them, a huge table made of glass, a 50-inch T.V. And a shelf full of _Italian_, mobster-related books. There were some romantic genres, too. Jack threw the guy he _picked_ up as a subordinate for an umbrella **outside** the house.

He doesn't want this place to get _smelly_, no, no, no.  
>As he was examining the room around him, he heard something, music. The music was playing upstairs, jazzy, beautiful and quiet. Jack tip-toed on the stairs to get to the room where the music was playing as slowly as possible till he reached the door and knocked.<p>

"_ ... Yeah?_ "

No one responded, of course.** Jack Napier**_ don't talk too much_.

" _Why, Jack! Come in! Come in!_ "

Jack entered the room, he found _Sal Valestra, his boss,_ sitting cozly in his chair, placing his legs over the desk infront of him. He smirked as he looked at that_ tall creep_. He knew Jack would come for him, Jack always had a _thing_ for Sal and vice versa. Jack was always Sal's enforcer, beat the crap out of _everyone_ who stood in front of him.  
>Sal knew every job he wanted to do to get his reputation <em>still<em> would be the help of Napier. Napier was _cunning_, _strong_, _agile_ and as **cold** as the **ice**. Jack wasn't interested much in looking for a_ love-interest_ but he knew _one thing_, when Sal's _there_, _pleasure_'s just around the corner. Sal stood up from his chair and approached Jack, placing his hand around his shoulder, " _Oh, Jack. Yer always there fo' me,_  
><em>arencha.. ?<em> " Sal smirked.

**Jack raised a brow**.

"_Ahaha! Open yer ears, ... YOU! And let me tell ya 'bout this one man, who's as great as a cupcake._ "

Jack got a bit confused, he never thought that Sal would be much _aware_ about the**_ fourth_-_wall_**.

"_ Y'see, my dear, you were always there for me_

_You take a round of bullets, you, everywhere you see_

_A blood-stained knife, a fedora of black_

_You take a handful of weapons, you, your name is Jack_

_Grab that glass of wine, take a sip to see_

_How much more you mean to me_

_And, what a fine man you be_

_Get a load of all the weapons I've for you!_

_But, always do what you're told to do_

Jack raised his brow. "_ Did you finish singing?_ " was written all over his face.

**Sal face-palmed**.

* * *

><p><strong>So, what do think of this chapter? I promise to make the 3rd a lot better. I had so much stuff to do and I'M HUNGRY.<strong>

**The title of this chapter, _Died Trying_, was not clearly shown in here, it just meant that Sal took him over 2 hours just to write the lyrics.**

**Well! Keep your eyes peeled for the 3rd, and final, chapter, _Your hands, my pants. !_**


End file.
